


aren't we the future?

by valdera



Category: DAYS (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Relationship Study, featuring: gratuitous lowercase, more purple prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 01:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valdera/pseuds/valdera
Summary: a look into ooshiba and kimishita's relationship, on and off the soccer field, from the past and into the future.





	aren't we the future?

**Author's Note:**

> i have lots of feelings about these two

the field does not change them, but it begins them. the green invokes an almost magical spell between the two. and now nothing but death will end them. 

on the field, their feelings are messy but uncomplicated; even their hardest of hearts open up to feel truth thrumming between them. it is an easy, terrifying sort of energy that exists between them; it lives for the fight and chains them together until they rise up stronger.

others find it hard to comprehend. they read each other's moves with a terrifying accuracy but sometimes miss each other by a huge margin. they cannot seem to understand that everything kimishita does has a purpose, that the soccer ball sent to ooshiba's head when he is lost in thought is not a communication error, but rather a sharp reminder to stay awake, and that ooshiba's complaints of kimishita stealing his glory makes a cover for his awe and joy.

off the field, kimishita found ooshiba on it, only half-seeing through a fence, and he had wanted. the want is mirrored from ooshiba, and they find themselves on the field together. give it long enough and want suddenly becomes a need. suddenly it is impossible to draw away from the other.

and they are dumbasses. both of them know it and deny it and simultaneously do not try to fight it; they cannot resist the impulse, the gravity that pulls them together, never for comfort but for biting words. it is just the rhythm of their hearts.

maybe when they are not teenagers engaging in dramatics and devoting their life to a sport, the energy will shift into a mellow sort of softness. but not now, when adrenaline spikes are natural and their laughs mix together without anyone noticing. not now, when kimishita is a dumbass and standoffish, and ooshiba is a dumbass and loud. their idiocy persists in different forms, but on the battlefield it binds them; it is an acknowledgment that despite everything, they exist on the same level, the same world, and both of them crave that feeling like a heartsick fool craves his lover's presence.

on the field, their dysfunction melts into this aching longing for one another, that latches on like an itch that only eases once they talk about one another. suddenly they know each other all too well, as memories of many fields pass them by, as they lock eyes and understand the weight of their passion. and then they know that the dedication they have manifested is mirrored within each other. it is here they both breathe deep and run. not from each other—with a sharp, devastating pass and a smirk—but towards each other. their dedication inspires a bystander, and between them it settles like a familiar weight, richer than any amount of wealth they hold.

on the field, the dismal notes of their arguments and hurt flicker away until in the midst of the sweat and the cries for passes, their eyes lock and fire bursts between them in discussion. in that split second they understand.

off the field, somehow they almost stumble into the same pattern. one day they catch each other’s gaze and smile. they find themselves drifting together, like an inevitable thing. destiny is often an ugly word. it implies a lack of free will, a lack of everything but luck. but they find it anything but. it is a choice, made with such a will that it becomes destiny. they do not escape each other because they hunger for each other.

and off the field they cannot explain it, cannot understand why they click together despite everything other than soccer separating them. but it is a choice, too, to accept it, and they do.

they are going to make it, someday. together. they are unlike everyone else in that they are a duo complicit in their understated partnership, preferring that their individual talents shine over all their subtle, almost delicate feelings. if their trust was not so strong, someone might almost call it soft.

a cheer rockets from the stands. they have paused their bickering to stand side by side in a still moment, and just like that, the space between them dissolves. _we won’t let you forget twice_ , they say. they turn around and say it twice just to feel the other by their side. something like fear grows in their opponent’s heart. the two of them at peace with each other means nothing more than the signal of a deadly storm. in that moment they have already promised to find victory and each other for as long as they can.

the future is already calling for them. it is bright and wild and loud, and just like them, it is filled with life. they do not hold hands but they hold each other up.

and between the dedication, the spirit, and their unspoken, unnoticed bond, something almost tender forms. somewhere in there love makes itself known.


End file.
